


Velvet Morning

by Miaou Jones (miaoujones)



Category: Free!
Genre: Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Possible Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 16:59:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2075928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miaoujones/pseuds/Miaou%20Jones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sousuke reaches down to stroke Makoto's inner thigh, Makoto cants his leg up and Sousuke follows the invitation, going a little higher with each stroke...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Velvet Morning

When Sousuke reaches down to stroke Makoto's inner thigh, Makoto cants his leg up and Sousuke follows the invitation, going a little higher with each stroke, until the back of his fingers graze Makoto's sac; Makoto's pleasure vibrates on Sousuke's tongue. Sousuke cups him, fondling and massaging, and Makoto pushes into the touch. Then Sousuke rubs his fingertip behind Makoto's balls and Makoto hooks his leg over Sousuke's, curving himself to give Sousuke more space to work in even as he seeks more contact.

Makoto starts to reach down too but Sousuke stops him, catching him at the wrist. Frustration mingles with pleasure as Makoto moans into their kiss. When Sousuke releases him, Makoto touches Sousuke's face with his freed hand, thumb resting on his cheek, fingers splaying down under his jaw, resting in his neck, the tip of his forefinger nestling behind Sousuke's ear, stroking his skin, tongue playing in his mouth.

Without breaking the kiss, Sousuke rolls Makoto onto his back. Makoto starts to slide his leg up from Sousuke's thigh to wrap around his waist, but again Sousuke stops him: hand behind Makoto's knee, Sousuke moves his leg to the side. He does the same with the other leg and when Makoto's feet plant on the bed, Sousuke breaks the kiss and scootches himself back. Stretching out between Makoto's legs, he props himself up on his elbow, his arm curling around Makoto's upper leg as he presses a kiss to the inner thigh. Makoto shivers responsively and Sousuke smiles. He licks and nips the skin he's kissed, and Makoto's hand finds his head as Sousuke makes his way back down to Makoto's balls.

When Sousuke takes one into his mouth, Makoto's fingers tighten in Sousuke's hair but he doesn't pull Sousuke forward, doesn't push himself in deeper. Mouth full, Sousuke smiles. His smile melts around Makoto's sac as he begins to suck. Holding Makoto's cock out of the way with one hand, he strokes his thumb the length of the underside, exploring the veins as Makoto offers soft words of praise that yield to inarticulate murmurs, punctuated by appreciative gasps and undulations.

Sousuke reaches for one of the hands in his hair and brings it to Makoto's cock, curling the fingers around it so Makoto is holding himself. Bringing his own hand down to Makoto's balls, he cradles them as he comes up to breathe for a second, his head resting against Makoto's thigh.

He takes another breath; breathes open-mouthed against Makoto. Then, nudging Makoto's sac up, he tongues the soft skin just there and Makoto moans, sighing something that might be Sousuke's name.

Sousuke shifts, repositions himself and Makoto, too. He slides his hands under Makoto, opening him, spreading him open for Sousuke's kiss—

"Ah, no, Sousuke." Makoto tugs at him, closing himself as he sits up. "You don't have to—not there."

Sousuke sits up, too.

When Makoto doesn't say or do anything else, Sousuke leans over to turn on the bedside lamp. Makoto turns his eyes from the sudden light but doesn't shield his face. Sousuke looks at him.

"Makoto," he says, looking; looking. "Makoto," he breathes, "I lo—"

"Don't." Makoto's quick. He doesn't look at Sousuke. "Don't say it."

Sousuke's brow furrows. He blinks. "But I—"

"Don't, please, all right?" As he looks at Sousuke now, something shimmers in his eyes, daring Sousuke to keep looking even as it invites him to look away.

Sousuke holds steady, and it's Makoto who drops the gaze.

"Sorry," Makoto says, eyes still downturned. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

He starts to get up but Sousuke is quick to straddle him, pinning him down. "You didn't mean to what? Makoto." He starts to reach but closes his hand back in on itself before he touches Makoto's face. "You didn't mean to what?" he repeats, softer.

"Lapse." Makoto shrugs. "Lapse into sadness." A smile forces its way to his lips. "I don't know what I'm saying." A mirthless snort of laughter. "I should go."

He starts to get up again and this time Sousuke pushes him back by the shoulders. They sit like that until the imitation of a smile leaves Makoto's face.

They sit like that even after it does.

Sousuke looks prepared to sit like this all day, all night, for as long as necessary, forever.

"I should go," Makoto says again, quietly.

"Is that what you really want?" Sousuke asks.

Makoto nods, still not looking at him.

"Wow, Makoto," Sousuke says then. "You're a terrible liar."

Makoto glances sidelong and is caught by Sousuke's familiar, affectionate grin. Makoto offers a wry one back. "I haven't had much practice, is all," he says. "I'm sure I'll get better with time."

"I'm sure." Sousuke grins agreeably. "If you want to. But don't do it on my account." His grin softens as he pushes Makoto's hair back from his face, then slips off his lap to stretch out beside him.

Makoto turns on his own and slides down, facing Sousuke.

"You don't have to smile when you're with me," Sousuke says. "You don't have to smile unless you want to."

Makoto doesn't say anything. He takes a deep breath and doesn't smile.

He breathes easier. Sousuke is breathing easy too as he slides closer, arranges their cocks, both of them soft, and begins stroking them together. A sigh shivers through Makoto as his eyes slip shut. He can feel Sousuke watching him, stroking and shivering with sighs of his own.

Makoto's breath is starting to come faster, both of them breathing a little harder when Makoto says, "Can I touch you, too?"

"Yeah~"

Makoto joins him, stroking themselves off, stroking each other together. They shift and jerk and rub together, soft guttural gasps, and, "Sousuke," Makoto sighs; "Hey, Sousuke," he opens his eyes, "could you do that again? Suck me like you were doing before?" His hand slips from their cocks to his balls: "It felt really nice."

Sousuke smiles as he pushes Makoto onto his back and starts to move between his legs.

"Wait," Makoto says. "Here, like this." He stretches Sousuke sidelong to him so that he can keep touching and stroking Sousuke as Sousuke sucks, licks, mouths him.

After several long, luxurious minutes, Makoto leans over and slides his mouth down onto Sousuke's cock. Relaxing fully in the sucking, the comfort and familiarity of this pleasure, he rolls onto his back, bringing Sousuke with him. As he coaxes Sousuke's leg up and over to straddle him, he accidentally bangs the knee into the wall; a jolt ripples through Sousuke, the shock rolls off his tongue onto Makoto's cock.

Makoto takes his mouth off: "Sorry," he rubs Sousuke's knee gently as he sets down the leg, "you okay?"

There's a quiet shock of coolness as Sousuke lifts his mouth off, exposing Makoto to the air for a quick, reassuring, and almost desperate, "Yeah"; and then they're both sucking again, tongues inflaming each other faster than they can soothe now; faster and faster and hotter and faster and _more, and please, and yes, and-–_

And Sousuke comes first, which is how Makoto likes it. He revels in the pleasure, savors Sousuke's come before swallowing. He keeps Sousuke in his mouth until he can't anymore, until he has to take his mouth off to say, "I'm close, Sousuke, if you want to move back now."

Sousuke doesn't want to move; wordlessly he tells Makoto he wants him to come in his mouth. And so Makoto does.

After a moment Sousuke lets Makoto slide free. He swings himself off and shifts around as Makoto sits up. Makoto leans over to the nightstand for his customary mints—but Sousuke takes his wrist. He kisses Makoto, fingers sliding down to twine with Makoto's as his tongue slips into Makoto's; they taste themselves, they taste each other; one of them smiles and one of them doesn't and they kiss and they breathe.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this was meant to be a one-off PWP but I've come up with an idea of what their larger story might be. While I'm probably not going to write the full thing, I posted [some thoughts about it](http://miaoujones.tumblr.com/post/93791670273/sousuke-makoto-soul-mates-au-idea%22) over on tumblr, if you're interested. 


End file.
